


Backup

by Evietan



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Sarumi Fest 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7487964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evietan/pseuds/Evietan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yata finds the old backup tickets and decides to use them, though probably not for what they were intended for. Pure fluff.</p><p>Written for Sarumi Fest 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backup

**Author's Note:**

> Super close to the deadline, but I made it! Enjoy the last day of Sarumi fest!

_Storage full_. Yata had only wanted to download a cool video one of his favourite skateboarders had uploaded overnight real quick in the morning, but his PDA had greeted him with that wonderful message. He’d deleted something else for the time being, but decided he needed to go through all of his stuff and sort out everything that was just trash or that he didn’t need anymore when he came back from work.

His day was pretty busy, working morning and evening shift at a restaurant and spending the afternoon at Homra, but he was still in high spirits when he came home, which might or might not have been due to the various texts he’d exchanged with Saruhiko during the day to plan going to the arcade next weekend. Scepter 4’s workload was finally starting to dwindle down a bit, so they could meet up at least sometimes. It was nice, being friends with Saruhiko again, after everything that happened.

So after making himself a nice dinner, Yata decided to tackle the cleaning of his PDA’s storage. He went through the videos first, since those took up the most data, and deleted everything he’d just downloaded on a whim, only keeping things he actually liked and the few videos he took himself. He’d never really felt the need to do it, since Totsuka had that covered perfectly well. The thought stung a bit even now, so he moved on to the pictures.

Those, he had a lot of. Like, _a lot_. Dumb comics from the Internet and lots of photos Yata had taken himself, usually of his friends in funny situations or when something cool happened. Yata had to bite back a laugh more than once going through his recent pictures, as they documented the daily mayhem at Homra pretty well. But there were lots of pictures that were just too blurry to make out anything, so there was no trouble finding something to delete.

When the folders suddenly became super empty, Yata knew he had reached the months between Mikoto’s death and Anna becoming the new Red King. Nothing had seemed funny or interesting to him then and he’d barely spent any times with his friends, so what little he had was mostly just stuff he needed to memorize for work. They were outdated, so he deleted them, leaving him with more than one empty folder.

The pictures picked up in numbers again when he reached the time before Ashinaka, though there still weren’t too many of them. He’d been too preoccupied with avenging Totsuka then to think about taking pictures. Still, there was one that showed Mikoto sleeping on the couch with Anna tucked protectively under his arm, and Yata could feel his mood swing from happy to nostalgic in a matter of seconds.

With the first photo of Totsuka Yata’s folders were back to being filled to the brim with dumb and happy stuff. Damn, his PDA knew him way too well. Old memes, shitty group selfies, even pictures his mom had sent him of his siblings if they had accomplished something, it took Yata over an hour to sort through everything before he reached the next (or, well, previous) important change in his life, and it made his breath hitch.

In and of itself, the photo wasn’t anything special, just Kamamoto posing in front of a pancake he’d made to look like a smiling face for Anna. But Saruhiko was there, in the background, sulking. In fact, he looked… somewhere between miserable and extremely annoyed. Yata gulped. Had Fushimi always looked like this when they were in Homra?

Yes. Yes, he did, the next photos confirmed. There was a certain edge on the last few photos that most of the others lacked, but in general Saruhiko didn’t look comfortable in a single picture during their time in Homra, and it was way worse when they actually were at the bar or with someone else from their clan than when it was just the two of them at their apartment.

 _It's so obvious. How could I not see this?_ He probably just hadn’t wanted to see it. Hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that the family that made him so happy just made his best friend miserable.

It got even worse when he reached the time before Homra, because Saruhiko clearly was way happier here, any scorn he showed in the pictures not really reaching his eyes. There were even a few where he actually smiled, and it took Yata’s breath away. He looked so… relaxed. And content. And _young_.

How long had it been since he’d seen Saruhiko smile like that? Too long. Way too long. Not since they joined Homra. He had a picture of Minoru starting school and one of his first day at middle school just recently, and not a single one of Saruhiko smiling in between.

He couldn’t let that stand. He was gonna have his PDA ready at all times at the arcade and get Saruhiko to smile! Even if it wasn’t an open one like back in the day, he was sure he could get one of those tiny ones where his whole face said ‘annoyed’ but his lips were curving upward anyway since he actually wasn’t annoyed at all.

Yeah, that was a good plan. Satisfied, Yata returned to his pictures again, sorting the rest through. He was getting close to the end, since he’d only gotten a PDA when he started middle school and therefore didn’t have any earlier ones.

But then he reached July in his first year of middle school and made another great find. ‘ _Request for backup. First time, second time, third time_ ’ the messily scanned paper read. Right. He’d never used those. And he hadn’t been able to delete them either, even though he tried multiple times. You never threw away presents after all, even if they were from people you hate.

In all honesty, he’d kinda forgotten about them over time. It wasn’t like he’d ask a traitor for backup anyway, and definitely not with these lame tickets. Actually… if he thought about it, he had asked Saruhiko for backup even when he still thought he was a traitor, when he needed help saving Anna. And Saruhiko helped him fight that mole too, even though he’d acted like a complete jerk both times. Technically, they hadn’t been friends then, so… maybe he should consider two of the tickets as used already.

That still left him with one though. Should he use that? And for what? He didn’t doubt that Saruhiko would come to help him if he ever really needed it (and wasn’t that nice that he could think that again). Maybe he could use it to get a smiling picture of him? Nah, that would probably just end up looking fake, even if he did it. Or he could use it for Saruhiko’s own good, ask him for help with finishing his vegetables that he’d ‘accidentally’ buy and cook way too much of. Yata couldn’t help but snort. Saruhiko’s face would be priceless.

 _Or you could make him answer honestly if he likes you…_ Yata scowled at the thought. No way could he do that. He knew Saruhiko wanted to be his friend, so he had to like Yata in some way, but there was no way it was anything more. Impossible. Just because Yata had realized how deeply in love he’d been the entire time as soon as the mental blockade of ‘traitor’ had been cleared didn’t mean Saruhiko had the same kind of revelation. Besides, answering honestly to a question didn’t even count as backup, so that was that.

Except of course his brain readily suggested a few ways to twist the words around and make it fit, as desperate as it had been to get him closer to Saruhiko as it had been since the destruction of the slate. Honestly, fuck his brain.

And just like Minoru’s sweets ticket didn’t include donuts, there were probably limits to Saruhiko’s tickets too. He wouldn’t just do anything just because Yata asked. He should just go for the vegetables.

But… maybe… if there was even the slightest chance…

This was getting him nowhere. Yata switched his PDA off, not wanting to think about it any longer. He still had a few days left until he met Saruhiko anyway.

-

It was Saturday afternoon, the sun was shining and it was pretty warm for the season, which meant the streets were annoyingly crowded with annoyingly cheery people trying to enjoy the good weather. Misaki would be one of them too, Fushimi knew, if he hadn’t chosen to hang out at the dark and stuffy arcade with Fushimi instead. Which was a nice thought, really. He knew it was lame, but it always gave him a little bout of satisfaction whenever Misaki chose him over something else, even if it was just the weather and his skateboard.

Well, if he decided to show up, that was, since it was already two minutes past when he was supposed to be there, but he figured that was just like Misaki to be late, regardless of whether Fushimi was ten minutes early or not. It wasn’t an important meeting either, just friends hanging out, so Misaki probably wouldn’t even try to be on time.

This wasn’t a date, after all, and he’d strangle his boss later for suggesting it was, because of course now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wanted it to be a date, which Munakata had probably picked up on, but that didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t. Dates only happened when two people wanted to go on one, and Misaki didn’t want to. End of discussion.

And then his brain stopped working anyway, because he spotted Misaki in the crowd. He was looking around, searching, until his eyes landed on Fushimi and his face lit up. Misaki began waving like an idiot and yelled “Saruhiko!” as he hastily tried to push through the crowd and get to Fushimi. _Damn, why does he have to be so cute…_

“You’re late,” he greeted when Misaki finally reached him. He couldn’t really bring himself to sound annoyed though, not after seeing such a bright smile just for him. Fushimi still didn’t like sharing it with Homra, but that didn’t stop his heart from majorly picking up the pace at all.

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t expect that much people out. Good to see you too.” There was neither guilt nor anger behind Misaki’s words though, so Saruhiko decided it didn’t need an answer, he just rolled his eyes and started making his way to the arcade. That had the added bonus that he didn’t need to look at Misaki anymore – he was wearing just a loose tank top and shorts, and it was distracting. And definitely not warm enough yet. What was he gonna wear when actual summer hit? Nothing? Yeah, hopefully not, Fushimi wouldn’t want to have to explain an awkward boner.

The arcade was pretty close, which was good, because Fushimi did not like where that train of thought was going. He was with Misaki now, he needed to enjoy what he could get, not lament over what he couldn’t. He had enough time for that when he was alone with his thoughts.

Thankfully, Misaki had no clue what was going on in his head, and they actually had a good time together at the arcade, close to what they had back in middle school. Misaki even insisted on taking a picture of them when he accidentally collided against Fushimi at the beginning of a game, earning them both exactly zero points. He titled it ‘skill.png’ with a big grin on his face and Fushimi’s heart melted just a little. Seriously, this was so unfair, how was he supposed to hold back when Misaki was so ridiculously endearing? He hated having to imagine Misaki’s rejection and disgust just to stop himself from swiping Misaki up and kissing him on the spot. But he’d learned to do it years ago, he wasn’t gonna stop now that he finally had a chance to be important in the good way to Misaki again.

To his surprise, Misaki asked to leave the arcade relatively soon, saying they should go to a café or an ice cream parlour and enjoy the weather a bit. Fushimi wasn’t entirely convinced, since he didn’t care about the weather and, as much as he hated to admit that, things still got awkward sometimes between them. It was usually okay when they had something to do like at the arcade, but otherwise they ran out of things to say or said something that was still a sore spot for the other.

He agreed anyways, but regretted his decision about five minutes in. The café itself was fine, a bit away from the main street so it wasn’t too crowded and the coffee they served was alright too, but the atmosphere was just too awkward. Way too much like a date.

 _This isn’t a date_ , he reminded himself, even though Misaki was sure acting like it. Ever since they’d left the arcade, Misaki had been fidgeting around, stuttering and blushing whenever Fushimi tried to make conversation. Yes, that was how bad it was. _Fushimi_ was trying to start a conversation to keep the awkward silence at bay. That was Misaki’s job. Fushimi was failing spectacularly at it, but Misaki made no attempt at helping him, eventually even pulling out his PDA and fiddling around with it under the table.

 _Out of my sight_ , Fushimi thought bitterly. It was irrational, but he hated it that there was something Misaki apparently still didn’t trust him enough to see. He very nearly made a snide comment about it, but he resisted the urge. It would make Misaki angry and get him on familiar territory again instead of whatever this was, but ultimately it would just lead back into where they were before, and they agreed that they didn’t want to go there again.

Thankfully, his own PDA buzzed in time, and he pulled it out to read the new mail. If Misaki could stare at his PDA, so could he.

The mail was from Misaki. Fushimi looked up at Misaki questioningly before opening it, but the skateboarder had developed a sudden interest into the napkins and was decidedly not meeting his eyes. Both suspicious and curious, Fushimi opened the mail.

‘I want to use this now,’ it read, with an image attached. When he opened it, he actually blinked in surprise. It was the scan of his hastily made backup tickets, the ones he’d given Misaki for his thirteenth birthday. Misaki had never used them, so he figured they had been a failed present, but apparently he’d held onto them until now.

It made his stomach both flutter and churn in worry. Was Misaki in some sort of trouble? Did he think Fushimi wouldn’t help him without these anymore? He gulped.

“What do you need backup for?” he asked, glad he had years of training in keeping his voice even.

Misaki was entirely flushed by now, and he still didn’t meet Fushimi’s eyes. Cold sweat began pooling in the palms of Fushimi’s hands at the thought that there was a chance Misaki would ask him for help with some kind of girl. It would be something Misaki would most definitely need backup for, after all. But he wouldn’t be able to take it, he knew it, and everything would be ruined.

So he sat petrified until Misaki stuttered out “I-I need you to help me… not make a complete fool out of myself in public right now.” That… didn’t really help Fushimi guess. Since when did Misaki care about strangers? And what embarrassing thing did he think he would do or would happen to him?

“Just… um, close your eyes and don’t freak out, okay? And pretend it never happened if you don’t like it!” Don’t like what? The whole thing didn’t make any sense to Fushimi, but when he finally met Misaki’s eyes, he realized the other was completely serious about this, so he obediently closed his eyes and waited.

For about half a minute, nothing happened, and Fushimi was just about to open his eyes again to see if he’d been pranked or something when he suddenly felt something warm and soft against his lips.

His eyes shot open. Lips, those were lips. Misaki’s lips. Misaki’s face was right in front of his own, bright red and eyes tightly closed, and Misaki was _kissing him_. Kissing. Him. Fushimi’s brain failed to function, only repeating these two words over and over.

Eventually, Misaki opened one eye to peak at Fushimi’s reaction, and seeing his still shell-shocked expression, he hastily retreated. “See? This- this is just awkward, so just pretend nothing happened and forget about it.” He let out an awkward laugh, and that was what finally shook Fushimi out of his stupor.

Misaki sounded like he was ready to cry. Inacceptable. Without really giving his body the command to move, Fushimi bent over the table and pressed their lips together once more, even moving his lips a bit against Misaki’s. He still wasn’t sure what this was, but he might as well get as much from it as possible.

Fushimi’s heart lurched when Misaki actively began kissing back. This was a feeling he could definitely get used to.

Their kiss didn’t last too long though, Fushimi had to pull back as his head began to spin. He didn’t really know what to say, but he just answered to what Misaki had said before to explain himself. “It’s… not as awkward like this, right? Now you don’t look stupid.”

Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say. Misaki’s face fell in a split-second and his voice wavered when he answered. “So… you did it just because of the ticket, huh… You didn’t have-”

Fushimi clicked his tongue to interrupt him. “You’re such an idiot, Misaki.” Did he really have to spell it out? “If you think that, why don’t you take me somewhere more private and kiss me again?”

Okay, that had sounded way bolder than he felt. He’d just wanted to avoid saying he wanted to kiss Misaki, but the result wasn’t really any better. Maybe his brain was still fried.

It had the desired effect of getting the sad expression off Misaki’s face though. It was replaced by a bright blush again, and once more Fushimi marvelled at how expressive Misaki was. He fumbled around in his bag a bit instead of answering though, pulling out his wallet and smashing some money on the table despite two unfinished drinks still standing between them.

“Come on then.” Misaki grabbed Fushimi’s wrist and pulled him out of his seat, dragging him along to the bus stop that would get them to Misaki’s apartment. So he’d taken ‘somewhere more private’ seriously. Fushimi didn’t complain, itching to feel Misaki’s lips on his own again.

And if his hand slipped up a bit so he could properly take Misaki’s, no harm done, right?


End file.
